Chinning the Chief Superintendent
by That G33Ky Girl
Summary: Friends will bail you out of jail, but best friends wind up in jail right along with you. Rated T for a bit of language. Inspired by the look on Sherlock's face when he realizes that John got himself arrested too for punching the Chief Superintendent.


Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely characters, or this fantastic show, so don't sue me. Pretty please?

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><p>From the Point of View of Dr. John Watson.<p>

I watched, incredulous and indignant, as Lestrade, the very man Sherlock had helped out of so many tight spots in the Detective Inspector's career, arrested my best friend.

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping," Lestrade said, handcuffing Sherlock.

"He's not resisting!" I protested. Lestrade, and everyone else, patently ignored me.

Sherlock spoke up for the first time since their car had arrived. "It's alright, John."

"No, it's not alright," I countered sharply, "This is ridiculous!"

"Get him downstairs now," Lestrade said authoritatively, over my vehement objections. They spun Sherlock around and bundled him down the stairs. I was growing angrier by the second, and to see the police force manhandling my friend around made my blood grow even hotter. I made to speak up again, but Lestrade stuck his finger in my face.

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too!" he said harshly. Clearly the Detective Inspector had been taking his share of shit now that the police no longer saw Sherlock as a brilliant, if arrogant and childish, force for good, but rather as a fraud. He looked almost as bad as I felt. And I felt like I might explode.

"You done?" I asked sarcastically as Sally Donovan, entered the room, looking entirely too pleased with herself to suit me. I glared at her with every bit of malevolence I had in me.

"Well, I said it," she replied rather smugly, "First time we met."

"Don't bother," I told her flatly, trying to dispel the anger rising in me.

"Solving crimes won't be enough," Donovan continue, "One day he'll cross the line." There was a pause for a smile so self-satisfied that I had to remind myself that I had never punched a woman, and did not intend to start. "Now ask yourself what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he could impress us all by finding them?"

I took several deep breaths in an attempt to stave off the white hot fury building in my chest as Lestrade's boss, the Chief Superintendent, entered our flat.

"Donovan, that our man?" he asked. She replied in the affirmative.

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me," he went on, surveying our flat critically, "Often are, though, these vigilante types." Something in my stance must have caught his attention. I can only assume it was the steam coming out of my ears as all the anger I'd felt as my best friend was wrongfully arrested so cavalierly, the hurt I felt on his behalf that all his help to the force was so easily dismissed, and the indignation that this man, who had never met Sherlock before in his life, could just waltz in and dismiss the most brilliant man I'd ever knew as "a bit of a weirdo", rose past the point of no return. He turned to me, as if I, not he, was the intruder in our flat. "What you looking at?"

All I could see, as blind rage filled me, was his officious face, inspecting at me disapprovingly.

I wasn't aware that I'd swung, and only afterwards did I remember the crunch of the cartilage in the Chief Superintendent's nose breaking as I hit him with every bit of the fury and resentment I felt.

* * *

><p>From the Point of View of Sherlock Holmes.<p>

I was leaning, face first, against the side of the police car, waiting to be placed inside, like a parcel from the store, trying my hardest to look meek and nonthreatening, to better plan how I might best escape, when John was pushed (thrown/shoved, rather) against the car next to me. I bit back a smile.

"Joining me?" I inquired, straight-faced.

"Yeah," John panted. The force applied to push him into the car having been excessive, he was a bit breathless. "Apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent."

I had to turn my head to hide my sudden smile. I've never had anyone else willing to punch someone else for me, let alone get arrested for me. It was a new feeling, being cared for that much. Contrary to what I might have expected, I liked it.

I read somewhere that friends will bail you out of jail, but that best friends will go to jail right along with you, or something of that nature. Apparently, I not only had a friend, but I had a best friend. And, for some reason, I didn't mind it at all, having John Watson as my best (and only) friend.

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><p>From the Point of View of Dr. John Watson.<p>

When I came to myself again, I was slammed up against the police car next to Sherlock.

"Joining me?" He asked, deadpan. I snorted slightly. Typical Sherlock.

"Yeah," I replied, panting slightly. Being shoved against the side of the car had knocked the wind out of me slightly. Even so, I could still manage a quip. "Apparently, it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent."

He turned his face away from me then, but I still saw it. A smile flashed across his face, so quick it was barely there. His reaction stunned me slightly, as it was not the carefully reasoned reaction of the friendless man I'd met in that lab so long ago. I was reminded of what he'd said to me during the Baskerville case.

"I don't have friends," he'd said, "I just have one."

And I'd proved that he was my friend, by punching the Chief Superintendent, oddly enough, and he was pleased. And then it struck me that, maybe, having had no friends, and an elder brother with whom he had an over-competitive relationship with, Sherlock had perhaps never had anyone stand up for him before. And he was pleased by it. Contrary to what he or anyone else may say, he does have human emotions, and he does have a friend. Me.

This didn't really help the fact that we were being arrested, but it made the stinging ache in my knuckles doubly worth it.


End file.
